


Legacy

by Jennifer_Collins



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Black Widow - Freeform, Drama, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Intense Relationships, Iron Widow - Freeform, Kissing, Making Out, PTSD, Past Abuse, Past Violence, Red Room, Romance, Sexual Content, Tonynat, partnerships, past trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2020-06-13
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:07:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 17,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23701306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jennifer_Collins/pseuds/Jennifer_Collins
Summary: Natasha is forced to take an unwilling partner on a mission that hits too close to home.
Relationships: Natasha Romanov & Tony Stark, Natasha Romanov/Tony Stark
Comments: 36
Kudos: 188





	1. Chapter 1

Natasha Romanoff stepped into the pool area of the luxury hotel, her narrow green eyes scanning the crowd as she adjusted the small earpiece she wore, disguising the gesture with a flick of her forefinger through her bangs. 

“Clint,” she muttered under her breath without moving her mouth, wondering what in the world was taking him so long. 

She smiled coyly at the multiple men who stopped in their tracks as she passed, eyes wandering and some even offering low whistles of appreciation; keeping her face soft enough to maintain the attraction so as not to warrant any unwanted suspicions, yet bold enough that no one would dare actually approach. 

She gazed at her watch, a frustrated sigh escaping her lips when she realized that the designated meet up time had passed nearly three minutes ago. In her line of work, three minutes was the difference between life and about ten deaths, a fact she would surely drill into him if she didn’t kill him herself when he finally decided to show up. Then a second later, she turned her back on the crowd, lowering her head as she faced the poolside bar as a momentary flicker of panic washed over her as her next thought was that the marksman never missed his mark. 

She groaned inwardly when she noticed from under the brim of her hat that someone across the wide open space was watching her intently and now making his way over to her, and she kept her stance rigid and uninterested. 

She barely had a moment to wonder what sort of fool would dare approach her now when she felt his eyes on her body without even looking up. Her mental and instinctive calculations told her he was not an immediate threat; compact build, easy stride, probably just some near middle-aged rich dude looking for an extra luxury during his luxurious stay. 

He was upon her faster than she would’ve thought and she was about to turn around and show him explicitly that she wasn’t interested when he greeted her first. 

“Hey, honey,” he said, already signaling to the bartender. 

Her eyes widened and she spun on her strappy heels at the familiar voice. 

“Oh, crap,” he said out loud and she placed a finger over her lips, hissing in irritation as she came face to face with a surprised Tony Stark. 

“Quiet,” she mouthed, silently willing him to not ruin this for her. 

His eyes were wide behind his thick frames and tinted lenses, but she thought he understood. 

“Stay,” she hissed. 

“Sorry,” he murmured in a near whisper. “I- I clearly didn’t think it was you. Of course I wouldn’t have- not that I-“ 

She shook her head, silently conveying that nothing had happened that she couldn’t fix. 

“I’m meeting a man here,” she said at a regular volume. “Maybe you’ve seen him? About your height, short, dark blonde hair, really muscular?” 

“Wait- wait what is this?” He stammered. “I was just on vacation, no business intended. I don’t want to get involved in anything…” 

“That you’re not supposed to be involved in?” She said with a wry smile. “Finish your drink and move along, handsome.” 

He opened his mouth as if to say something, but they both were interrupted by the buzzing of her phone in her pocket. 

She wrinkled her brows, pulling out the secure device and holding up an apologetic finger as she turned her back on him. 

“Romanoff,” Fury’s voice came in a crisp tone. 

She kept her expression even as she listened, even though she already knew that it couldn’t be a good thing that he was calling her during an assignment that he’d sent her on. 

“Barton won’t be joining you on this mission,” he continued, quickly adding “he’s fine” before she could visibly panic. 

“Oh?” She said. 

“He’s been reassigned,” Fury explained. “I’m sorry, Natasha. It looks like this won’t be going the way you wanted after all.” 

“Well I have to say, I’m not entirely pleased, Nick,” she said into the phone as she shrugged it off. “But I guess I just have to fly solo for now.” 

“Not so fast,” Fury said. “You still need a partner for this one.” 

She lowered her voice, pulling the hat down lower on her head. “Come on, Nick. You know as well as I do that you can’t possibly send someone else in time. It’s fine. Nothing I can’t handle.” 

“Who said anything about sending someone in? Seems there’s already a qualified candidate in your immediate vicinity.” 

“What?” She said, raising her eyes and turning slightly to catch a glimpse of Tony downing another whiskey.“No…. Nick? No. You can’t be serious.” 

“Put him on the line,” he said in a tone that clearly told her it was an order and not a request. 

She pressed her lips together firmly, reaching out to tap him on the shoulder and thrusting the phone in his direction. “It’s for you,” she said through clenched teeth. 

His gaze dropped down to her outstretched hand. “I really don’t like to be handed things-“ he started. 

“Then take it from me and I won’t have to hand it to you,” she spat in obvious frustration.

He rolled his eyes, taking the phone and holding it discreetly up to his ear. “Uh-huh. Right. No way! First of all, I’m on vacation here and second of all, I’m not one of your monkeys, uh lackeys, you can’t just….” he stopped and she watched as he carefully chewed on his bottom lip while he listened to the stern voice on the line. 

She grinned slightly, thinking that apparently no one was immune to Fury’s fury when he got in that no-nonsense manner he had. 

“Ugh, fine,” he muttered. “But you both are going to owe me big time and I’m not above holding Barton to this debt as well.” 

He held the phone out and she took it from him, slightly harder than she’d intended. 

“Vacation’s over,” Fury said. 

“Yes, sir,” she replied, eyeing her unwilling and unwanted partner.

XXXXX

At least he had the decency and common sense to stay quiet until she brought him to the motel where she was staying. 

She motioned for him to go in first, then nudged the door closed behind her with her foot before sliding the chain lock into place.

“Yeah, like that’s going to keep us safe from whatever it is you dragged me into,” he muttered sarcastically. 

“I didn’t exactly ask for this either,” she reminded him a little coolly. After minute her expression softened. “What did he say to get to you to agree to this, anyway?” 

He shook his head, hands in his pockets and swallowed thickly without saying anything. 

“Okay,” she said with a nod. “But we have to play this my way. I’m trying to keep the both of us from getting killed.” 

“I just don’t understand why we have to stay in this dump. I’ve got a perfectly good presidential suite at the place we just came from.” 

“Very inconspicuous, I’m sure,” she said, the corners of her mouth turning up. 

He smirked. “Whatever. This place is a dump,” he repeated. 

She laughed. “Welcome to S.H.I.E.L.D. life. It’s not all fun and games.” 

“So what are we doing?” 

“Our target is Mikhail Petrovich,” she said, pulling up some information on her phone to show him. “He’s making a deal with an associate of an Italian politician. Their plan is to restart a version of the Red Room, where I….” 

He gazed up at her, his eyes wide. “Yeah, I got it.” 

“I’ll explain things on the way as needed. “You just follow my lead, try not to be obnoxious, don’t get us killed and everything will be fine, okay?” 

He pursed his lips. “I knew I should’ve gone to Venice instead.” 

“Now, come on. We have to get ready. We’re going to a party in the city tonight.” 

His expression brightened. “Now that is something I know I can handle. What’s the dress code? Super formal?” 

She shook her head, pulling out a button down shirt and slacks from her bag. 

“That just screams off the rack,” he said in mild protest. 

She raised an eyebrow. “Your style is too recognizable. You’ll throw the whole thing off. Which brings me to my next thing….” She said, rummaging around in the bag for a moment before producing a disposable razor. 

“What?” He said. “No way! You can’t be serious.” 

She held his eyes, her gaze unfaltering. “I can’t have you blowing our cover, Tony.” 

“Oh yeah? What about you and your flaming red hair? How’s that not drawing attention?” 

She held up a long, curly brown wig. 

“Seriously?” He said disbelievingly. “All that mega tech and Miss Super Spy is resorting to some cheap trick disguise? I mean, not that I don’t think you’d look good as a brunette, but come on. You mean S.H.I.E.L.D. doesn’t have any stealth tech that could majorly alter your appearance?” 

She shook her head. 

“Really? Huh,” he raised his hand to his chin, moving his fingers through his goatee. “Guess I should really talk to Fury about that.” 

“You’re stalling,” she said. “Shave. Now. Before I do it for you,” she threatened. She carefully placed the razor down on a small end table and looked at him expectantly. 

He sighed dramatically before grabbing it and the clothes she had offered him and heading into the tiny bathroom. 

"I don’t see what the big deal is anyway,” she called over the sound of the faucet. “Why are you so into your appearance, Stark?” 

“Ha!” He said, leaning his head out, his face covered in shaving cream. “This coming from a doe-eyed, red-haired beauty with perfect red lips and perfect high heels and perfectly fitting clothing.” 

“That’s different. I have to look a certain way at all times in order to satisfactorily complete my job. You don’t.” 

He raised his eyebrows dubiously.

“Well, would you have hired me to be your assistant if I didn’t look like that?” She challenged. 

He ducked his head back into the bathroom without saying anything and closed the door. 

“I thought so!” She called out. 

She sat in the one chair in the room as she adjusted her wig, mentally going over the sudden changes to her strategy while she waited for him. 

He reappeared a few minutes later, eyes averted from hers and lips sculpted into a pout. 

"Wow,” She said with a grin. “You look nothing like you.” 

“I know, it’s horrible,” he mumbled.

“I don’t know,” she said, running a hand over his freshly smooth face and tilting his chin up. “It’s not so bad. Now come on. We’re almost late to meet our date.”


	2. Chapter 2

Natasha placed a compact handgun on the small nightstand, nodding to Tony. “Keep that on your person, just in case. I can’t exactly have Iron Man swooping in to save the day if things go sour.” 

He raised an eyebrow. “Are we expecting them to?” 

She shrugged. “You always have to expect things to go wrong.” 

He carefully concealed the weapon, keeping his eyes trained on her. “Well, you should know that I’m not exactly the best shot with these.” 

“What are you talking about? I’ve seen you shoot. Your aim is almost impeccable.” 

“Not with that. Look, if you’re expecting me to be Barton….” 

“I don’t need you to be Clint,” she insisted, herding him towards the door. “I just need you to not be yourself for one night.” 

He followed her to the stairwell, ignoring her silent grumbling. 

When they got to the bottom, she whirled around suddenly, forcing him to freeze in his tracks. “You know, eventually the day will come when you won’t be able to rely solely on your tech and mech. The only hands you can fully trust in this world are your own, Stark.” 

“Don’t I know it,” he muttered. “That’s why my hands created all that tech.” 

“Whatever,” she said, rolling her eyes dismissively. “Just lay low, stay alert and try to at least make yourself useful.” 

XXXXX

The party was at an elaborate mansion, a property of the politician she’d mentioned, no doubt. 

A servant greeted the slow line of people entering the hall, issuing instructions on when they’d meet their host in a foreign language and Natasha wrinkled her nose as she tried to recall what little Italian she knew. 

Tony placed an easy hand on the guy’s arm, saying something in a jovial tone in perfect Italian and the man brightened, continuing the conversation with his guard down and chattering up a storm with the visitor who had charmed him. 

Natasha’s eyes widened slightly in surprise and he regarded her for a second with a wink and a self- satisfied grin before thanking the servant and patting him on the back. 

She breathed out a sigh of relief, her eyes turning up to him as they walked through the hall and into the crowd. “I’m impressed,” she admitted, one corner of her mouth turned up slightly. “Looks like you can make yourself useful tonight after all.” 

“What’s the play?” He asked. 

She gestured to her target with barely a nod. “Stay close, but not too close,” she murmured discreetly. 

“Right. Your show. Got it.” 

She shook her head as she watched him head for the open bar before heading towards her mark. 

“What’s a gorgeous little lady like yourself doing in a place like this, all by her lonesome?” The tall, broad shouldered man asked in a thick Russian accent. 

“Looking for you, of course. I’m a big fan of your work, Mr. Petrovich,” she cooed. 

He laughed, gesturing to the men he’d been talking with to leave him. “Please, call me Mikhail,” he insisted, holding out his hand. 

She placed her hand in his, introducing herself only as “Ginger.” 

He kissed the back of her hand slowly, his gaze holding hers. “Shall we dance, Miss Ginger?” 

“I’d love to,” She said in a modest tone, letting him lead her to the center of the room. 

She took the opportunity to look over his shoulder at her surroundings, making sure that Tony was still within eyesight and quickly figuring out which of the attendants were in on the ploy and which would be innocent bystanders should her cover be blown this soon into the night. 

“So tell me. How did you become familiar with me, and which one of my businesses is it that you support?” He asked, his eyes lowering slightly. 

“I’ve heard about the work you do for orphans overseas,” she said intently. “Call me sentimental, but the story hits close to home. You see, I was abandoned as a child myself. And I wouldn’t be where I am in life now if someone hadn’t taken a chance on me.” 

His eyes glittered as he became engrossed in her words, his gaze still wandering. 

“In fact, I’d like to become a benefactor of your organization. Maybe you have someone here you could direct me to?” 

His expression grew dark, the wrinkles around his eyes more pronounced. “I’m sure we could arrange a private meeting….” He said, his hands lowering from her waist to her hips.   
She bit her lip, trying to keep herself from smacking his hand away when she looked up and saw Tony out of the corner of her eye. “There he is,” she said, raising her voice to catch his attention. 

“Huh?” Mikhail asked hazily. “Who?” 

“My boyfriend,” she said. “Darling, why don’t you come over here and introduce yourself to our host?” 

He cautiously stepped closer, clearly trying to figure out what he should do and she gracefully detached herself from Mikhail’s grasp, turning into Tony’s side. 

“Anthony,” He said finally, reaching out one arm to shake hands while he wrapped the other one possessively around her shoulders. “Anthony Howard.” 

“My brother always warned me never to trust a man with two first names,” Mikhail said, eyes narrowing suspiciously under bushy gray eyebrows. 

Natasha laughed him off. “Maybe we could continue this conversation tomorrow, at lunch?” 

The taller man moved his hand to his beard, regarding the pair. “I will talk to my associates and have someone contact you before we leave here tonight,” he said. 

“Thank you, Mr. Petrovich,” she said with a satisfactory smile. “It’s truly been a pleasure.” 

She turned her attention back to Tony. “Sweetheart, do you think you can get me a drink?” 

He nodded, gesturing in front of him for her to go first. 

“Well?” She asked, leaning close to him once they were at the bar and out of earshot. 

“This place is crawling with his thugs,” Tony answered in a hushed voice. “It would be very difficult to neutralize him and take him in here.” 

She nodded. “Let’s just hope he grants me that meeting I asked for.” 

Tony signaled to the bartender and placed a few bills on the counter, his eyes widening when he turned back to her and caught her looking over his shoulder. “What is it?” he asked. 

“Kiss me,” she said, placing both hands on his forearms and looking up at him. 

“What?” 

“We’re being watched. Kiss me,” she demanded under her breath. “And make it convincing.” 

He leaned his head down, placing one hand under her chin to tilt her head back and the other to her waist as he carefully touched his lips to hers. 

She wrapped her arms around his neck, closing her eyes as she kissed him back, her fingers softly running through the thick hair on the back of his head as she held on. 

His lips were soft and insistent, his warm breath tinged with a faint scent of whiskey, tongue smoothly sliding over hers when she opened her mouth to let him in and she sighed softly before slowly pulling away. 

His brown eyes were wide and his breathing deep when she looked into them as she casually unclasped her arms from around his neck. 

“Close your mouth,” she whispered, gently tapping on his chin. “And get ahold of yourself.” 

XXXXX

“That was horrible,” Tony said, barely getting through the door to their motel room before he started unbuttoning his shirt and rummaging around in his suitcase for a casual band tee. “Was that horrible?” 

“It wasn’t totally horrible,” Natasha assured him, pulling off her wig and lightly scratching her scalp before running a few fingers through her short curls to pat them back into shape. “The important thing is we got what we needed, which we did.” 

He nodded slowly. “I admit I was a little… out of my element.” 

She sat down on the twin bed she’d picked out for herself. “You did fine. It took Clint and I years to get to the level of silent communication we’re at now. Actually, all things considered…. you were great,” she added softly. 

“Really?” He asked, plopping down on the other bed and lounging on his side. 

“Really,” she said with a slight smile. “I’m glad you had my back. Sorry if I uh…. sprung that on you at the last second.” 

He shrugged. 

“It’s just…. I didn’t want him touching me,” she started to explain. "I mean, I-"

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” he said, a flicker of anger flashing in his eyes and his jaw set rigidly. 

“Anyway… let’s just see what tomorrow brings.” 

“Right.” He was quiet for awhile before he cautiously asked, “You deal with creeps like that often on these little assignments Fury sends you on?” 

“What?” She asked distractedly. “Sometimes. It’s nothing I can’t handle, it’s just….” 

“Just what?” 

She chewed on her lower lip, carefully debating on whether or not to continue this conversation. 

“Nat, I’d be much better equipped to help you with this if you’d give me even the slightest bit of information.” 

She turned her head to face him, her eyes trained on his. “Mikhail is my uncle.”

He let out a slow breath, clearly considering her words and what he’d witnessed during the night. “Wow. I was not expecting you to say that.” 

“Well. My adoptive uncle anyway.” She sighed. “It’s complicated.” 

He scooted closer to the edge of the bed, sitting up straight and balancing his elbows on his knees. “I’m well aware of your history with the Red Room,” he said quietly. 

“Are you?” She snapped, suddenly angry. “And did you know that I was eleven, the first time I killed a man? A man more powerful than you, in those days?” 

He held up his hands in surrender. 

She took a deep breath, her expression softening. “I’m sorry,” she said in a much softer tone. “But I have to shut this down, no matter what. It all ends tomorrow, even if it means-“ 

“What do you want your legacy to be?” He interrupted her. 

“What?” She asked, not comprehending. 

“Your legacy. What do you want it to be?” 

She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. My legacy is covered in blood…” 

“Noooo,” he said evenly. “Your past is covered in blood. That part doesn’t define you. Not if you don’t let it.” 

She swallowed hard, breaking eye contact. 

“Hey,” he said firmly. “We all make mistakes, right? And let’s face it, you’ve seen me in some pretty… compromising situations.” 

She snorted, slowly turning her head to look at him. “You could say that.” 

He chuckled. “Do you care about that anymore?” 

“No.”

“Good. So. What do you want your legacy to be?” 

“I guess I never really thought about it before,” she admitted quietly. 

“You think about it. We’ll do this mission. Think about it, and you get back to me, after.” 

“Okay,” she said with a nod. She stretched her arm out to reach for the fraying cord on the lamp on the nightstand. “We should get some rest. We have a big day tomorrow.” 

She heard him settle back into his bed as she turned out the light, then turned her back away from him as she curled up in her own bed. 

“Nat?” He asked after awhile. 

“Hmmmm?” 

“That kiss was really something, huh? I think I may have even convinced myself.” 

She grinned, leaning her head against the lumpy pillow. “Goodnight, Tony.”


	3. Chapter 3

“Damn microwave doesn’t even work,” he muttered, slapping his palm against the side of it dramatically. “Hey, I have an idea. Why don’t we stop by my jet, eat a nice, not junky breakfast and then load up on some tech before we finish this mission?” 

“Tony.” The gravity of the inflection in her low voice made him turn around to face her. “I have to do this myself.” 

“What?” He raised an eyebrow. “No way. You and your precious S.H.I.E.L.D. dragged me away from vacation to do this crap. Besides, you said so yourself. We’re a team, right?” 

“The message Mikhail sent me early this morning said to come alone. I can’t risk blowing this assignment. Not now, after all these years….” She trailed off. 

His fists clenched at his sides. “Come alone, huh?” He said, gritting his teeth. “Yeah, I’ll bet he wants you to come alone.” 

She ignored him, simultaneously reaching for her wig and piling her real hair on top of her head in a tight bun.

His eyes were still glued to her, watching her every movement from his perch near the table as she ran her fingers through the fake brown curls. “This guy’s your uncle, right? How long do you think you can keep up that flimsy disguise before he recognizes you?” 

“Oh, like you recognized me when you were coming over to hit on me the other night at the bar?” She snapped, finally meeting his gaze. 

“That’s different,” he said, his tone slightly defensive. “I wasn’t necessarily… I just….” 

She took a half step closer to him and pressed her lips together, the corner of her mouth raising into a self-satisfied half-smile. “I don’t even want to know what you think Pepper would say about that.” She frowned. “What are you doing on vacation without her, anyway?” 

“You’re deflecting. Nice,” he commented. He paused for a moment, clearly deep in thought before he answered quietly, “Pepper broke up with me.” 

“Oh,” She said dumbly, her expression softening. “I’m sorry.” 

He shrugged. “It is what it is. Lucky I ran into you instead of doing something I’d regret with the first cute brunette that caught my eye, huh?” 

She bit her lip, carefully considering what she wanted to tell him and weighing her options. “Petrovich knows it’s me,” she admitted after a moment. 

His eyes widened. “What? How do you know?” 

She gestured blankly with her hand. 

“Right,” he said, desperately trying to refrain from rolling his eyes. “It’s your thing. Okay. So, why the disguise then? Seems a little unnecessary don’t you think?” 

“I have to keep up the deception as long as I can. He doesn’t know that I’m aware that he’s aware of my identity.” 

Now he did roll his eyes. “Well, if you think I’m going to let you go in there flying solo without your arm candy..” 

“Tony,” She said, her voice serious again and her expression pleading. “You said we would do this my way.” 

He stared at her for a long time, with squared jaw and deep brown eyes unfaltering from her steady gaze. “Alright,” he finally conceded. “On one condition. We go to my jet and tech you up first.” 

She nodded silently. 

XXXXX

“I promise, I’ll behave myself as long as you do,” he was saying as he dug around in his private compartment. 

She eyed the impressive space slowly, glad that his back was turned to her so he wouldn’t catch the wide-eyed awe on her face. She’d been in here once before, of course, the last time she was working undercover in his presence but his personal gear customized for a genius-turned-billionaire-turned superhero still amazed her. 

He held up a nearly invisible wire, gazing at her expectantly. “Here, you can wear this,” he told her. “It’s signal will carry through to my earpiece, just in case.” 

“A microphone?” She shook her head in protest. “I appreciate the thought, Stark. But Petrovich will be expecting every trick in the book to get tossed at him. He’ll detect a wire immediately and trace it before I’d even finish my greeting.” 

“Not Stark tech, he won’t,” Tony promised with a grin. “Trust me, partner.” 

She took the wire from him reluctantly, figuring that if it was the only way to keep him off her back (and out of harm’s way), that she would do it. 

She turned around, unbuttoning her blouse and securing the microphone to her person in a discreet location.

“I needed to keep you close,” he said quietly. 

“What?” She whirled her head back, turning to face him with a puzzled expression on her face.

“Back when you were undercover at Stark Industries. The boxing thing, with Happy. You totally threw me.” He lowered his eyes, his long, thick lashes guarding the flash of vulnerability she’d already seen. “You intimidated me, and I had to keep you close. That’s why I hired you to be my assistant,” he admitted softly. 

She swallowed hard, watching his Adam’s apple bob as he did the same before returning his gaze to hers. 

“You’re going to do great today. With or without my help,” he added. 

“Tony-“ She started, almost reaching for him. For a second, she nearly got lost in his wide brown eyes as she looked back at him, surprised by his complete honesty. She’d always considered herself pretty good at reading him, even when he was trying his hardest to be unreadable. But now, it was as if a few of his built up layers had crumbled, only to be replaced by a couple of new ones she couldn’t figure out how to see past yet. 

He nodded once, reaching for her instead and placing a steady hand at the small of her back to usher her to the door. 

“This whole legacy thing?” She asked, breaking the silence. “I want to be good. That’s why this mission is so important. I need to do something good, for once.”   
His face was closer to hers than she’d anticipated, and her eyes widened. 

“You already are. You’re a good girl, Nat,” he said quietly, a trace of that odd vulnerability back in his eyes. “Besides, being good isn’t a legacy. You need to think bigger.” 

“I- I don’t know how,” she whispered. 

He smiled, his eyes glittering in a familiar Tony Stark way. “Stick with me, darling,” he whispered back. “I’ll show you.” 

She smiled back before turning to reach for the handle, then she froze. “Do you hear that?” She asked, barely breathing. 

“Hear what?” He said with a frown, quickly hushing up when she motioned for him to keep quiet. 

Her eyes widened at the same time his did and she had the sense to crouch down low in the split second before the blast.


	4. Chapter 4

Natasha groaned, calling out for Tony. Once she was certain that anything mobile had settled she attempted to move, testing out her physical function. 

She frowned when her head felt heavy, then realized that her face was enclosed inside an Iron Man helmet. 

“Stark!” She shouted, louder as it dawned on her that he still hadn’t answered. She tapped frantically on the outside of the helmet, trying to figure out how it opened. 

“Relax, Ms. Romanoff,” a voice said and it took her a second to place it as the faceplate snapped back and the metallic casing released her. 

“JARVIS,” she said sharply, her gaze darting over the wreckage. “Can you tell where Tony is?” 

She was interrupted by a loud groan and she followed the sound to where a pile of disjointed pieces of Iron Man armor was on the other side of the demolished aircraft. 

“Stark,” she said, her voice nearly choking as she knelt down to find him buried beneath the armor. She picked the pieces up with both hands, and set them aside as she uncovered him, trying to ignore what the realization that he’d sent the armor to protect her first and hadn’t made it safely inside himself was doing to her chest and her throat. 

“Tony, can you hear me?” She asked, lightly touching his cheek with her hand. 

He slowly opened his eyes. “You owe me a plane. And about thirty million dollars in personal belongings.” 

She audibly breathed a sigh of relief. “I’ll get right on that,” she said with a half-grin. “Can you move?” 

He propped himself up on his elbows first, groaning louder as he pulled his body to a sitting position. “Yeah.” 

Natasha reached out a hand to help him up and he looked at her for a moment before accepting. 

“This does not count as me handing you something,” she said insistently.

He nodded his consent and she gingerly helped him stand, her eyes widening when she caught sight of the gash in his left shoulder. 

“Hold on a second. You’re hurt,” she told him, her voice taking on a practiced, even tone. 

He didn’t say anything, his eyes watching as she grabbed for something that would be sufficient enough to put pressure on the wound.

“You’ll need medical attention. I’ll call for S.H.I.E.L.D. backup,” she said as she awkwardly tied a piece of fabric over his shoulder and around his armpit. She cursed when she found no life in her device. 

“I got it,” he reassured her, reaching into his pocket with his good arm for his phone. He frowned at the lack of signal. “Must’ve done something to scramble us,” he muttered, visibly annoyed that someone had gotten through his tech. 

“We can’t stay here,” she urged him. “It’s not safe. They already know who I am, and clearly they know who you are too.” 

He nodded. “Where to now? What do we just walk to the nearest gas station and call for help?” He asked in his trademark sarcastic tone.

She shook her head, chewed her bottom lip as she thought for a moment. “Back to the motel. I’ve got to get you stitched back up. Anywhere else and they’ll just track us. We’d be putting innocent people in danger.” 

She slowly moved to put an arm around his waist, encouraging him to brace himself against her. She figured he must be more hurt and exhausted than she realized when he didn’t put up much of a fight. 

“I guess it’s just you and me,” he said, his eyes carefully trained on her face. 

She smiled a tight lipped smile as she gazed back up at him. “I guess so,” she said quietly. 

XXXXX

Once back at the room, Natasha dug around in her bag for her emergency kit, modified from the one S.H.I.E.L.D. had given her after years of experience in less clean situations. She motioned for Tony to sit on the chair as she pulled out some supplies.

He pulled off his tattered shirt, wincing slightly as his shoulder stretched with the torn open skin. 

She looked up at him, her attention drawn by the movement, eyes going automatically to the glowing device in the center of his chest, taking in the sight of the machine and the scars along the raised bits of flesh where metal met skin. 

“Sorry,” she said when she caught herself staring. 

He nodded knowingly as he sat. “S’ok,” he replied. 

She doused some rubbing alcohol over the needle as she took her place behind him, reached for some gauze and doused that too before she began to dab as lightly as she could at the wound. 

He winced visibly at the sting, his shoulders tightening. “How’s it look?” 

“Yeah, it… doesn’t look that bad,” she lied, keeping her voice even. She taped the gauze over the injury to absorb the bleeding, threaded the needle, rubbed some numbing cream around the area, knowing that it wouldn’t help much. Apparently he knew that too, as she could feel his body tense as he braced himself. 

She nodded to the arc reactor. “Does that hurt?” She asked quietly as she went to work. 

He hesitated for only a moment before answering. “It did at first. Not anymore,” he said truthfully. 

She nodded again, even though his back was to her. “Bet it hurt a lot more than this will,” she quipped.

He didn’t say anything, head lowered, hands gripping his knees. 

The needle punctured him with a practiced ease, she’d done this for Clint more times than she could count at this point. Her hands were steady, and she leaned close, blowing softly on his skin after every pull in an effort to dull the ache.

He closed his eyes, muttered something to himself. 

Natasha quickly found her rhythm as she started to sew the edges of his skin together, trying to ignore the spread of his blood on her hands as she worked. “Is that thing really keeping you alive?” she asked in a steady voice. She knew that if she could get him talking it would take his mind off what she was doing and make things easier for her. She also knew that if there was one thing Tony Stark liked to talk about, it was himself. 

“Yeah,” he said. “It’s basically just a high-tech magnet.” Bingo, she thought as he went into specifics about how the device worked. 

“Why don’t you just have surgery to remove the shards from your chest?” She wondered aloud. She reached for more gauze and alcohol, carefully cleaning away the blood in between stitches. 

“I don’t know how many pieces there are in there, it could be a hundred.” He turned his head slightly as he spoke, now talking over his injured shoulder to her, and she placed a firm hand on his upper arm, tilting him back to where she needed him. 

“It’s like you said before. I can’t trust anyone’s hands but my own.” 

For some reason, the tone in his voice when he said that made her swallow hard. 

“You’re pretty good at this. You ever done this before?” He wondered. 

She smiled, a tight-lipped smile. “More times than you will ever know. On myself, even.” 

He was quiet for a long moment. “You said you were young when you started….. completing assignments. How old were you when you started your, uh, training?” 

She paused, one hand holding the torn edges of his skin together, the other holding the needle in mid air. “Seven,” she finally answered, figuring he’d been honest with her so she may as well. 

“Jeez, Nat.” 

She shrugged. “I hear you in your sleep, you know. The nightmares.” It was becoming like a game now. “Is the cave in Afghanistan the worst thing that ever happened to you?” 

Something in his whole demeanor changed just then. Up until she’d asked that question, even here in his vulnerable state he was still the Tony Stark she knew. In the seconds after she’d voiced it aloud, he was someone else. 

“No,” he admitted quietly. 

The subtle shift made her stop asking him questions. He stopped talking, and she continued to sew him back together in silence. 

She had just finished with the stitches, had wiped his blood clean from the wound and was patting antibacterial cream on him when he asked, “How about you? What’s the worst thing that ever happened to you?” 

“The Red Room,” she answered immediately as she straightened herself up, admiring her work. “That’s why I have to finally put an end to all this.” 

He turned around to face her, one hand gripping the back of the chair as his gaze met hers. “I get it,” he told her softly. “That’s why I’m helping you.” 

She wordlessly nodded her gratitude. 

“You asked what Fury said to me, on the phone,” he continued, his eyes still locked on hers. “He said you were in real trouble, that it was real personal. And did I want to be the one to turn my back on a friend.” 

He swallowed hard, a small smile appearing on his lips. “It turns out, no. I don’t.” 

“Tony,” she said, her voice almost choked as she reached out, placing her hand over his where it was still sitting on the back of the chair. 

He was no longer looking into her eyes, his gaze shifting above her head and she frowned when she turned to see what he was looking at and realizing he’d turned his attention to the busted microwave. 

“Hey,” she said, raising a puzzled eyebrow. “What-?” 

“Hold on,” he said, rising from his perch on the chair and walking towards the microwave. He turned back around suddenly. “I need something small and sharp. You have anything like that?” 

She dropped a hand between her legs, reaching through one of the holes in her pants for a blade that she had strapped to her inner thigh and holding it up before placing it on the table for him to grab, still confused about his intentions.

His mouth parted and his eyes widened for just a second before he shook himself out of it, taking the tool. “Okay. I meant like a sharp hair pin or a utility knife or something, but this’ll do. Gimme a second though. Not gonna lie, I’m a little turned on right now.” 

She grinned, shaking her head as she watched him cut through a panel on the microwave. 

“Let me see your phone,” he said, the tip of his tongue sticking out a little as he struggled to pry whatever he was looking for free. 

She put her phone on the table, still watching him as he walked over with a wad of loose wires in his hand. 

He grabbed for her device, pulling it apart and tinkering with the mobile assembly and the wires he’d pulled from the microwave for awhile while she sat at the table, watching him with her elbow propped up and her chin in her hand. 

“How about that?” He said once he’d put it back together and pressed the power button. “You said you needed me to not be myself on this mission, but it turns out I’m exactly what you needed. You're welcome.” 

She looked at him in awe before taking her phone from his outstretched hand. “I may have been a little stubborn when I said that….” 

“You think?” He asked with a chuckle. 

“Tony…. thank you.” 

“You’re welcome,” he said again, his tone sincere. He nodded to her emergency kit. “Got any Tylenol or something in there? You go ahead and call your pals at S.H.I.E.L.D. for backup. I could use a painkiller induced snack before we head back out and bust this asshole.”


	5. Chapter 5

It was now or never. 

Natasha stood on the roof of the councilman’s breakfast club building, arms crossed in front of her chest over the zipper to her Black Widow stealth suit. There was no point in holding up pretenses any longer, everyone involved knew what this was and she’d armed herself up with her full gear. 

She looked out over the expansive yard, across the pool and the tennis court, impatiently searching for any sign of her target. 

A rooftop battle may have seemed cliché to a past version of herself, but realistically she knew that she couldn’t risk innocent people inside or who may be lingering on the grounds outside. 

She’d checked to make sure Tony was sleeping comfortably before sneaking out of the dingy motel room they’d been sharing the past three days, even allowed herself to smooth his hair back with her hand, lightly kiss his forehead and whisper apologetic confessions of why she had to do this alone. 

She’d also done her due diligence and made sure to contact S.H.I.E.L.D. as she had said she would. With any luck, within the hour a medic would be onsite to look Tony over and attend to anyone who may need it after a team of agents stormed the club, arresting the councilman and his cohorts in front of a shocked crowd of innocent attendants, exposing him for what he was. 

But not Mikhail Petrovich. No, he was all hers. She’d been careful while planting the seeds to lure him out, ensuring that he’d come alone so all this could be settled once and for all. 

In her years of employment with the many agencies she’d done the grunt work for, she had always known that even a foolproof plan would fall apart most often than not. Maybe it was Stark’s cockiness rubbing off on her, but for now she was certain that her careful plan was airtight. 

What was that saying about certainty? She didn’t have the time to recall before the all-too familiar voice was calling out to her from behind her. 

“Hello, uncle,” she spat with hatred in her voice as she whirled around to greet her companion, her limbs ready to spring at any given moment that she’d need to. 

She stopped in her tracks, gasping audibly as her hand flew to her mouth. 

“Hello, my Natalia,” Mikhail said in his thick Russian accent, his voice just as low, and cruel laughter in his eyes as he offered his salutations. “I don’t believe you’ve met my young friend yet. Allow me to introduce you to Giovanna, the councilman’s niece.” 

She tore her gaze away from his sickening smirk and regarded the red-headed girl with curly hair and freckles who was standing at his side with poise and posture that was too perfect to be exhibited by a child of her age. 

“A bit younger than you were, I know,” He said as if reading her thoughts. “But she is eager to learn and I have every confidence that she will… perform… as well as you did.” 

She gritted her teeth, her hands balled up into tightly coiled fists at her sides and the muscles in her thighs aching with how tensely she’d been holding herself back. 

Mikhail turned a fond gaze to his companion and the way he patted the top of the girl’s head with his hand made something inside her snap and she pounced. 

The little girl shrunk away from Petrovich in surprise, instinctually making herself smaller as Natasha’s fist connected with Mikhail’s jaw and he was thrown back a few steps. 

He cackled as he raised a hand to his jaw. “The ever so calculated Black Widow. I always knew you’d be a powerful sight once you lost control.” 

She nearly growled as she charged again, her body colliding with his. He would put up a good fight, she knew, but his age would likely slow him down and it had been almost two decades since he’d had any real sense of her combat abilities and she was sure that the with everything she’d picked up over the years she’d been at S.H.I.E.L.D. and the time she’d spent with Clint and the Avengers, that she would have the upper hand in no time. 

For his part, he did what he could to provoke her, jeering and hauling personal taunts from years ago that he knew would trigger her. 

“It’s good your Avenger friend decided not to join you for this part,” he said into her ear, his breath hot on her face as he held her down. “I’d much rather we do this alone. Just like the old days.” 

She jammed her elbow into his neck, stunning him long enough so she could get free and he spat on the ground before taking an offensive stance as she came at him. 

She charged at him with all her might, ready to do anything that she needed to disable him, her anger surging as he appeared to have no alarming reaction to the force with which she was coming at him. 

She leapt into the air, her momentum carrying her, anticipating the counter force that he’d come at her with, and he grinned a spiteful grin. 

He made no move to counterattack, nor did he draw any weapons or make an effort to shield himself from her advances. Instead, he merely stepped aside and she tucked her body into a crouch, preparing to brace herself for a stationary impact. 

To her horror, she realized with a cold slap to her gut that there was nothing between her and the edge of the building. She’d run out of ground. And now she was diving right smack into the open air from about sixty stories up. 

XXXXX

She closed her eyes against the wind, wondering how long she’d have to be angry with herself that she’d messed up so bad. 

It turns out it wasn’t that long before her body impacted with something hard, only it took her a second to realize that it wasn’t the ground. It couldn’t have been, as she was still conscious and the ringing in her ears had been brought about by sound, not something that she’d struck. 

She opened her eyes to find that she was wrapped tightly in the arms of a fully armored Iron Man, and they were sailing much higher than the building she’d been fighting on top of. 

“Oh, hi!” He said cheerily, his voice impacted by the mask in an achingly welcome way. “Remember me? Your partner on this mission who you’ve abandoned, yet somehow has heroically come to save you against all odds? Yeah, that’s me. You’re welcome.” 

She waited until he’d set her down in the grass in a wooded area, away from public view before she answered him. “Take me back.” 

“What?” His faceplate retracted and he had a wild look in his eyes that she’d never seen before. “You can’t be serious. You’re so emotional about this that you didn’t even notice that you were hurling yourself to your death, off a building, Natasha! You think I’m just going to take you back there? So you can what, exactly?” 

“I told you, I need to stop this now,” she said, her eyes narrowed into a glare. 

“No way, this is too personal. I’ll handle it,” he said, his faceplate clanking back into place as he thrusted his hands down to engage the repulsors in his palms. 

“Fine! You want to help? Then help me, Tony!” she shouted loud enough to get his attention. 

He stopped, this time his whole helmet disappeared. 

“He’s got a kid, Stark. The councilman’s niece, or something. That’s what this deal was about. He’s taking her back to Russia, to the Red Room and they’ll turn her, and other innocent children into- into-“ 

“Into what?” Tony asked, taking a half a step towards her. 

“Into me!” she cried. 

“Oh, Nat.” He closed the distance between them, reaching out to put a firm hand on her shoulder and squeezing her tightly. “Alright. I’ll take you back there. But it’s not just your show anymore. We’re partners, right?” 

She nodded, looking up into his eyes with a light sniff and wrapping her arms around his neck and he gripped her waist, keeping his eyes on hers for a moment before his helmet clicked back into place and he launched them into the air. 

“How did you find me, anyway?” She asked as the wind blew her hair behind her and she squinted. “You put a tracker in my phone,” she answered her own question with an accusing tone. 

“So what?” He said with a shrug. “You put a sedative in my painkillers. We’re even.” 

She smiled, ducking her head into his metallic neck as he flew them the rest of the way back to the club. 

XXXXX

By the time he was getting ready to land on the rooftop, Mikhail had heard them coming back and had drawn his weapon and was firing at them. 

Natasha tumbled out of Tony’s grasp before he could set her down on steady ground, rolling for cover as she grabbed for her own gun. “Get the girl out of here!” she called to him. 

Without stopping his motion, he made a beeline for where the girl was hiding behind a brick wall, arms wrapped firmly around the child. “It’s okay, you’ll be safe now,” he promised, then said it again in Italian as he took her away. 

Mikhail was still laughing as Natasha was shooting at him. “So, it’s just you and me after all, isn’t it my Natalia? It was always going to end with just you and me.” 

She stepped out from behind her cover. “I guess so, uncle. Only there’s just one thing. I’m not your Natalia anymore. I never really was.” 

With a loud cry, she lunged herself at him, her left leg sweeping into both of his, elbow connecting with his jaw. She heard a crack, and she knew it wasn’t one of her bones, but she couldn’t tell if she’d broken his leg or his jaw. Maybe both, she thought as she watched him spit blood. 

He attempted to pull himself up, but he collapsed in on himself, laughing again as they heard the sound of helicopters nearby. “Looks like you win after all. You and your little S.H.I.E.L.D. puppets. You think you’re better now, because you’re with them? With the Avengers? You think your Iron friend is a better man than me?” 

She aimed her firing hand at him, the barrel of her gun pointed towards his skull, her finger on the trigger. “I know he is.” 

She was dimly aware of the sound of footsteps on the roof, from her calculations there were about four of her colleagues making their way over to them. 

“Go ahead,” Petrovich said, nodding to the agents behind her. “Pull that trigger. Then see how your comrades will stand by you when they have to arrest you. You are no better off now than you were then.” 

“You’re wrong,” she said through clenched teeth. “And I should kill you now and end this for good. The world would be much better.” 

“Nat!” A familiar voice called out. 

She looked up momentarily. “Clint!” 

“I’m sorry I’m late. Jackson’s downstairs with a team. They’ve just arrested the councilman. Stark’s here too. He’s got the girl in protective custody until they can figure out what to do with her.” His eyes widened when he saw Natasha still pointing her gun at Petrovich with her finger on the trigger. 

“Nat?” He asked gently. “What are you doing? It’s okay now. I’m here, we’re here. You don’t have to do that. We can take him in.” 

Her eyes were getting blurry and Mikhail still had that damned smirk on his face, daring her. 

"Come on, Nat…” Clint said, a hint of nervousness to his voice now as he slowly started to take a step towards her. 

“Stay back!” She warned. “I don’t want you to get hurt.” 

“No one’s getting hurt,” Clint said. “You see? You got him, he’s disarmed. Come on, Nat. Put the gun down and let’s go home.” 

“It’s her choice, Clint.” Iron Man stepped gracefully down onto the rooftop behind Petrovich. He stepped out of his armor. “It’s her show. We’re just here for the ride.” 

Her gaze wandered from Mikhail to Tony, and back. 

“Don’t forget, I know what you really are,” Petrovich was saying, the blood from his broken jaw running down his neck. 

“Nat…” Clint said, holding his hands in the air where she could see them and getting closer. 

“I-I-“ she started to say. 

“Natasha,” Tony said softly. “It’s simple, really. What do you want your legacy to be?” 

“Ha!” Petrovich spat. “This is her legacy! It’s the Red Room. Remember your training, Natalia! I know what you really are!” 

She looked down into Mikhail’s eyes, icy blue eyes that she’d seen so often growing up and that had haunted her dreams for years after. “You’re under arrest, Petrovich,” she said, lowering her gun. 

She nodded to the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents and the three who had been standing behind now moved forward, yanking him to his feet. 

Clint breathed a sigh of relief and Tony met her gaze with a nod. 

“Are you okay?” Clint asked, embracing her fiercely. “I’m sorry, Nat. I told him. I told Fury that it should’ve been me here on this mission with you,” he said into her shoulder. 

She swallowed thickly, burrowing into him. 

“You’re okay, now,” he assured her. “You did it. You stopped it.” 

She looked over at Tony, slowly walking towards him. “Thank you,” she said quietly. 

He smiled, a soft smile. “You’re welcome,” he said just as quietly. This time there was no trace of sarcasm in his voice. 

Clint nodded to him. “You need a ride home?” 

“Nah. My armor’s intact. I’m good.” 

“Alright. Hey, thanks for filling in, man. I’ll take it from here.” He wrapped an arm around Natasha’s shoulders, tugging her lightly towards the direction of the helicopter. “Come on, Nat. Let’s get you home.” 

She started to let him pull her away, then paused. 

“Nat?” 

She looked behind her, her heart in her throat when she realized that Tony was looking back too. She disentangled herself from Clint’s embrace, running towards him and flinging her arms around his neck. 

He hugged her back just as hard, wrapping one arm around her waist, the other around her back, his hand holding the back of her head as she clung to him while Clint looked on in surprise. “It’s okay now,” he murmured into her ear. “You did good, darling. You did real good.” 

“Where will you go?” She asked, her green eyes looking up into his brown ones. 

“Back to the mansion for a little while. I have some things to take care of at my company.” 

“Oh,” she said softly. 

He smiled, reached out to run a finger through her hair, leaned down and gently placed a lingering kiss on her cheek. “I’ll see you soon?” 

She nodded, watching as he armored up and set off into the sky. 

“Okay, you have a lot of explaining to do,” Clint said as they both headed for the helicopter. “And I don’t just mean the details of the mission. Let the guys ride with Petrovich. You’re riding with me.”


	6. Chapter 6

A month and a half after the mission where she’d halted the Red Room, Natasha had gotten word that Stark would be coming to S.H.I.E.L.D.’s New York headquarters to do a product demonstration. She’d barely had any contact with him since she’d watched him fly away from that rooftop in Italy, except for a few video chats here and there. 

Nick Fury himself had asked her if there was anything she wanted to talk about when she’d turned in her mission report, claiming that he needed to make sure she was okay. She’d told him she was fine and that was the end of it, although she did manage to sneak a peek at Tony’s account of the events. To her surprise, there’d been nothing about him heroically coming to her rescue after she’d hurled herself off a sixty-story building, nor was there any mention of her breakdown on that rooftop. 

Clint was less easy to convince. It had been days of invading questions and sympathetic glances, awkward silences as they each stared into their coffee mugs. 

“So… you and Stark,” he’d asked her, probably in a desperate attempt to get back to some semblance of normal. “What, you two like friends now, or something?” 

She’d thought about it while she peeled an old sticker off her mug. “Yeah,” she’d answered. “Yeah, I guess we are.” 

He’d gotten real quiet after that, like he was contemplating things about her that he wouldn’t say.

Strange how he was the closest person in the world to her, and yet he still sometimes looked at her that way. As if he just wasn’t sure. She’d expected that from the other three agents who’d been there that day, just as much as she expected that they’d avoid her in the elevator, or in the hall. But not Clint. 

Now as they were seated at the long conference table in the meeting room with Fury at the head and Hill at the foot watching Stark give his long winded, self-congratulatory speech while Fury rolled his eye and urged him to get on with it, she realized that the only person who hadn’t looked at her differently was Tony. 

He moved around the meeting room with ease, gesturing with his arms as if he owned the place and all of S.H.I.E.L.D. She couldn’t help smiling into her hand as she watched the exchange between him and Fury. He caught sight of her looking at him and winked at her. 

“I need a couple of volunteers,” he was saying to the agents, already motioning for her and Clint to stand up. “You two. Come on, don’t be shy.” 

Clint was apprehensive as they approached him, but she nudged him in his side, silently communicating that they should just go along with it. 

“In a world of espionage, it’s important to have the latest Stark tech at your disposal for all of your blending in needs.” He put his hands on his hips, gazing at Clint. “Yeah, Barton, you wish you looked as good as her,” he said, nodding towards Natasha and earning a couple of chuckles from the agents sitting around the table. 

He held up a chip in front of Clint’s face, pressed it between his thumb and forefinger when he reached out to take it from him. “Well, now you can. Ladies and gentlemen, Director, meet your new image altering technology.” 

The room grew silent and Natasha’s mouth dropped open as Clint’s features softened before their eyes. His close cut hair grew longer, curling around his ears and darkening from blond-brown to auburn and then bright red. Blue eyes turned to green, and his frame shrunk, shoulders thinning and waist slimming. Even his clothes had started to take on the appearance of the jacket and blouse she was currently wearing. 

“Now let’s see your targets figure out your position,” Tony said smugly. He glanced briefly at Natasha. “Now you’ll never have to wear those cheap trick disguises ever again.”  
He showed Clint how to work the device and the image faded, his features slowly returning to normal. “Nope, still not prettier than her.” 

“I think I’m okay with that,” Clint said, a half smile appearing on his face as he started thinking of the possibilities. 

Every agent around the table had their hand in the air, waiting to ask questions and Natasha and Clint kept standing, silently communicating with each other again while Tony patiently answered every single one. 

XXXXX

“Did you really just do all that in a month?” Natasha asked him later that day. 

He’d offered to take her to dinner after his demonstration and the private meeting with Fury. Really, he’d offered to take both her and Clint, but Barton had graciously declined before making his exit from the S.H.I.E.L.D. building and riding off in a taxi. 

“Where is that guy always running off to?” Tony had wondered aloud. She’d shrugged her shoulders, pretending as usual to have no idea what her partner was up to, except this time she did feel slightly guilty about it. 

The restaurant was nothing fancy at her request, and they’d enjoyed a quiet meal uptown. He’d complained that he was on the outs with Pepper again after she’d caught him working on his thirteenth armor build. 

“She doesn’t understand you,” Natasha had idly commented over dessert. “That’s why she keeps breaking up with you.” 

He’d gazed at her thoughtfully with an odd expression on his face after that. Asked her how she was doing since the last time he’d seen her and mentioning something else about legacies when she told him she was doing pretty well.

Now they were walking arm in arm through the park at a leisurely pace. 

“Well, technically the holographic ability has existed at Stark Industries for quite some time,” he was explaining as they strolled towards the exit. “It just needed a little direction, a little purpose, that’s all.” 

She nodded along idly as the sun went down, wondering if she should invite him back to her place since they were so close. Wondering if he’d get the wrong idea. 

“So you’re going to D.C. with Rogers next week, huh?” He asked, changing the subject. 

She glanced up at him, the surprise evident in her eyes for a moment as she wouldn’t have thought that Fury would disclose that information. Then she bit her lip and kept her mouth shut in case he hadn’t. 

“Think he’s going to be a better partner than me?” 

She offered a half smile at the slightly jealous tone to his voice, partly to ease his ego and partly because she was genuinely amused at his constant self-imposed competition with everyone around him. “I think Steve has a totally different skill set than you, Tony. It’ll be interesting to adapt to his way of thinking during a mission.” 

Tony frowned. “Why would you adapt to him?” 

She stopped, unsure of how to answer him and just shrugged off the question. 

“So…. Cap’s first assignment as a S.H.I.E.L.D. field leader. How… utterly predictable,” he continued, not necessarily steering the conversation in any direction.  
She snorted involuntarily. “It’s not Steve’s first S.H.I.E.L.D. mission,” she said. 

“It’s not?” Tony replied, a genuine hint of surprise in his tone and his face. “Hmm, right. Fury never tells you everything,” he mused. 

“Speaking of not telling everything……” she started slowly, figuring now was a good a time as any to bring it up. “I read your report from Italy.” 

He didn’t say anything, but he did turn his head to gaze at her from behind his big glasses. 

“Tony… you left out a couple of details,” she said in a low voice. 

He shook his head. “No, I didn’t. I reported every detail that was necessary about the mission,” he said evenly. 

She swallowed thickly as she held his gaze, her throat suddenly feeling tight, and his expression was just as intense and purposeful. 

She was the one who broke the eye contact, holding onto his arm a little tighter in both of hers as they continued to walk. 

By now they were coming up on familiar territory and her eyes followed up and down the streets, glancing up at the windows of tall buildings. “Your construction crew really did a great job in this area,” she commented idly, even as she felt him tense.

“You’d never know that there was ever an alien attack on this block.” 

She turned her attention back to him, realizing that his hands had started to shake and she could tell that a slightly panicked look had taken over his eyes, even through his tinted lenses. 

“Tony?” she murmured gently. He’d stopped walking, his haunted eyes darting in every direction and suddenly she knew what his nightmares from the hotel had been about, why he always hastened back to California after every time they’d met.

“This is your first time in the city since that first attack, isn’t it?” She asked softly. 

He nodded slowly, still unmoving and she gave his arm a little tug. 

“Come on,” she said, urging him on. “My apartment is not that far from here. Walk me home?” 

“Sure,” he said, seemingly snapping out of it and shoving his hands in his pockets. 

They walked the rest of the way in silence, although she could tell when his hands had stopped shaking and after awhile his legs moved beside hers in an easy stride. 

“This is me,” she told him when they were in front of her place. “Don’t tell anyone, though. You are now one of about three people who know my home address.” 

He smiled, one of his charming, teeth showing smiles as he reached out a hand to brush her hair behind her ear, just as he had that day on the rooftop and she was once again reminded of how hard it had been to say goodbye to him. 

“When am I going to see you again?” She asked, looking up at him with sincere eyes. 

“You could always come visit me in Malibu,” he said, his hand still cupping her face, fingers pressed along her jaw and thumb lightly stroking her cheek. “Someone with your talents and resourcefulness… you’d make a good lab assistant.” 

Her eyebrows raised in amusement. 

“Nah, it’ll be great,” he continued. “Come on by, let me spoil you like you’ve never been spoiled before. We can tell each other some more secrets,” he added, his tone only slightly sarcastic. 

“Goodbye, Tony,” she said with a smile on her lips. 

“Goodbye, darling,” he said, leaning down to softly kiss her cheek, the lingering pressure of his lips against her face a now familiar comfort. 

“Have fun in D.C.,” he called with a wave as he walked down the steps. “Tell the good Captain I say hi, and be sure to tell him who it is that’s upgrading S.H.I.E.L.D. tech and providing him with all his needs. I’m sure a little field work will do him good, secure him in his legacy, like it does for you.” 

She leaned her head against the door as she watched him disappear into the night.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter gets explicit.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know who else to call.” She was shaking, fighting back tears as the realization of what she’d done finally hit her. 

The voice on the other end of her cell phone was calm, gently speaking some instructions without hesitating and she nodded. She pressed the button to end the call, glanced at the address he’d already texted her and blindly walked to the ticket counter at the airport, pulling up one of her old buried identities for the flight. 

She debated on whether or not to call Clint. She needed to check to see if he was okay, make sure he was safe, but then decided that he had much more to risk than she did from an unsecure communication line and his needs had to come before hers in this case. 

Her phone buzzed in her pocket and she pulled it out, wiping at her nose and reading the second text through blurred vision. It’ll be ok. I’ll take care of you, I promise. X  
She pulled her hood over her head, putting the phone back in her pocket with a sniffle. 

XXXXX

It was better to take a taxi to the location he’d indicated rather than to rent a car, that way she couldn’t be traced. He’d paid for it himself, arranged for the driver to meet her outside the airport, given her the name the driver would be holding up on a card. 

The guy said nothing as he pulled up to the grounds and parked in front of the entrance long enough for her to get out of the car. 

He was there, waiting for her, putting his arm around her as he slipped some bills to the driver before the car drove away. 

“Hey, hey look at me. You okay?” He asked, cupping her face in his hands. “I saw you on the news. Was going to call you myself if I didn’t hear from you.” 

He chuckled. “That was some stunt you pulled, releasing all of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s data and intel.” 

“You think I made a mistake?” She said as he led her through the sliding glass doors. The glass was certainly thick and powerful enough to withstand a bomb, she couldn’t help noticing. 

“I didn’t say that. You did what you had to do, and I respect that. Don’t worry, you’ll be safe here. At least until we can figure out what’s next.” 

She leaned against him, figuring there was no point in putting up any sort of walls now that he’d come for her in her most desperate time of need. Twice. 

He held her tightly under one arm, his heartbeat a comforting presence next to her ear, which was still ringing with the shock of what had happened. 

When she finally looked up, she realized that he was almost fully dressed, wearing a neatly pressed shirt, loosened tie, smart slacks and polished shoes. She suspected there was a discarded suit jacket somewhere on the premises as he’d clearly just come from a meeting or something. “Shit. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I was interrupting something. You obviously just came from somewhere important-“ 

He waved her off, shushing her as he led her to a wide kitchen area, helped her sit at the counter and started a pot of coffee. “Have a seat and relax,” he said gently. “Let’s talk.”  
She told him everything; about the mysterious figure who’d shown up and thrown Steve off, about how HYDRA was always hidden in the ranks of S.H.I.E.L.D., about the only way she could stop it all, and how it felt to be fighting for something when all along it wasn’t what you thought it was. 

His eyes were wide and deep with understanding as he listened, and it took her a moment to realize it, but of course, he of all people would understand. 

“You’re still a good girl, Nat,” he murmured from across the counter, his hand over hers, squeezing her fingers. 

“I’ve been thinking about this whole legacy thing….” She started, then her eyes roamed over the expansive space of the kitchen, the large living area attached to the room and the several hallways she could just make out from where she was sitting. “Tony. What is this place?” she asked, gazing in wonder at the simple, yet elegant design and realizing for the first time the technology that was involved in this building. 

He grinned. “Like it, huh? It’s our new Avengers headquarters. Or at least it will be, when it’s done. Located in beautiful, secluded upstate New York, where it’s convenient for the majority of the Team. State of the art Stark tech in every nook and cranny, powered by the very clean energy technology that once breathed new life into the veins of an unsuspecting superhero.” 

She turned her eyes back to him, her mouth still slightly open in awe. “You did all this for us?” She wanted to hug him, wanted to throw her arms around him and thank him for everything, but there didn’t seem to be words and actions that would be quite enough to adequately express what she was feeling. For a second, she thought she might start crying all over again and then he was asking her about her legacy.

“I guess it’s not S.H.I.E.L.D. after all,” he said, watching her cautiously from beneath his thick, dark eyelashes. 

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “I don’t know. Maybe it never was.” 

“Well, I’m glad you see that,” he said encouragingly, his eyes twinkling. “Go on. What do you want your legacy to be?” 

“I didn’t know what you meant when you asked me the first time. But now… all this S.H.I.E.L.D. vs. HYDRA business… it all seems a little too familiar. And it’s not who I want to be.” 

He reached into a bowl of fruit, popped a grape into his mouth, his eyes never leaving hers, even when she wasn’t looking directly at him. 

“I came from the Red Room wanting to make a difference, left the KGB wanting to make a difference, joined S.H.I.E.L.D. because I wanted to make a difference. But I’m starting to see that maybe really, truly, making a difference? It starts right here,” she said, her eyes once again darting over the space. “With us. With the Avengers. This is it. Maybe this is all our legacy.” 

He nodded, bit into another grape, chewed it slowly. “And what do you want your legacy, specifically to be, Natasha?” 

“I can train them,” she whispered. “The young ones. People like us. Because there will be more. I can be their guidance, help them find their way. And probably, long after us… the Avengers will keep going.” 

She sniffed. “No one did it for me, until I met Clint. And Nick. And… Coulson. But it’s not about S.H.I.E.L.D. That was just a means to something that will never end. This is what it’s about, Tony.” 

“Come here.” He stood, holding out his hand to her and she stared at him blankly for a moment. 

“Come here,” he said more firmly, taking her hand and tugging her off the stool. “Come with me. I have to show you something.” 

He led her to an elevator, pressed a button and they rode several floors up, to the top most level. They walked down a dim hallway, into a dimmer room that lit up when the motion detectors sensed their presence. “I will give you a full tour later, but for now.” He gestured with his hands, showing her the advanced space. 

“This is our training room. There’s enough space here for an entire team to practice, reinforced walls and ceiling to contain even the powers of superheroes.” He pressed a button and the floor beneath them changed, revealing several pieces of gym equipment. “Or maybe you just want to go at it hard.” 

Her jaw dropped and she gaped at him while he continued to explain the various features and technology the space had to offer. 

“I talked to Steve, and we both agree. It’s yours, Nat. You are the heart and soul of this team. Cap may be the leader, and I may supply the brainpower and the funding, but it’s all you. This is your show, darling. So do what you want with it. Like you said, it’s about us. But it’s also about you, Widow.” 

For a second, she stood stunned, gazing between him and the surfaces of the room, her mouth still gaping open, eyes wide as she took in his words. 

Then, she was pushing herself against him, pinning him to the wall with her body, mouth crashing against his, fingers clutching at the collar of his shirt as she kissed him wildly and deeply. 

She pulled back slowly, gasping out loud as she realized what she’d just done, her fingers touching her lips. 

He froze, his eyes looking her up and down for a moment, still standing against the wall. “Yeah, okay,” he said, reaching for her, pulling her back against him and tilting her head back to meet her lips again. 

She let him put his strong arms around her, let him hold her against his body as they kissed passionately, her hands sliding into his hair and his hands firmly gripping her waist to hold her in place and keep her kissing him. 

“What are we doing?” she whispered against his mouth in between kisses. 

“Hmmmm,” he answered, still kissing her, pressing his tongue against her lips and she eagerly opened her mouth, letting him inside, letting his tongue slide against hers and closing her eyes.

He lowered his mouth to her neck, nipping, sucking and kissing and she lowered one hand from his hair, down his face, across his jaw, slipping her fingers into the already undone buttons on his shirt and unbuttoning another, then another and another until her hand was sliding down his chest. 

She froze, her hand caught in the center of his chest as her eyes popped open and she slowly began to pull away.

“It’s okay,” he whispered, his fingers slowly coming up to close around her wrist and keep her fingers on his flesh, his forehead pressed against hers, eyes searching hers as he breathed against her. 

“It’s really gone?” She asked softly, her voice breaking as she brushed her fingers over the raised bits of scarred flesh, felt his heart beating steadily beneath her fingertips.  
“It’s really gone,” he said. 

“Does it hurt?” she murmured. 

“It did at first,” he murmured back. “Doesn’t anymore. Your hand feels nice, though.” 

“Oh,” she whispered, leaning in to kiss him again. 

He released his grip on her wrist, letting her explore the surfaces of his skin at her own pace and she gently caressed his chest as they kissed. 

She hooked her other arm around his neck and he tilted his head, finding a better angle to kiss her properly, his arms encircling her waist. 

She slipped her hand under the fabric of his dress shirt, feeling the muscles in his broad shoulder, his strong bicep and the garment fell away. 

He shrugged to get it all the way off, letting go of her waist only long enough to let it fall to the floor and then his arms were around her again. 

His kisses did crazy things to her senses and she found herself breathing and gasping in ways that were foreign to her as his mouth continued to travel up and down her neck. 

Her hand slid from his chest down to his stomach, feeling his muscles tighten deliciously at her touch. 

She moaned softly as he pushed her hair away from her shoulders, his tongue tracing the outer shell of her ear, his mouth sucking her neck on the spot just above her jugular and she shivered. 

“That tickles,” she murmured, squirming in his arms as his coarse facial hair rubbed against her skin. 

He didn’t stop, his mouth finding a particularly sensitive spot and soon it didn’t tickle anymore. Soon the sensation of his lips, tongue and teeth on her neck started to feel really good, made her melt in his arms, made her nipples harden under her shirt and other places start to tingle. She closed her eyes, moaning softly.

“Hey,” he whispered, his fingers gently brushing her hair in the move that continuously made her weak. “Do you want to get a little more comfortable?” 

She nodded, unable to speak, her heart pounding uncontrollably in her ears as he led her to the elevator again, this time taking her to a different floor than the one’s they’d been on so far. 

He took her down a wide and spacious hallway, explaining that this was to be their personal living quarters and pointing out each person’s room before he showed her where hers was at the end of the hall. 

She looked into the space he’d created for her, a lump forming in her throat as she took in everything he’d thought she’d like and passing her hand over her mouth again when she realized he’d gotten it right- the purple curtains, the plush sofa, queen sized bed and area rug with a red and purple Russian design under the simple foldable table. 

He was watching her, clearly expecting some kind of a reaction.

“Where’s yours?” She asked simply, gazing up at him with widened, emotional eyes. 

He smiled, taking her hand and leading her across the hall to his quarters, not unlike his bedroom at his mansion, from what she remembered. Or at least what it used to be. 

He closed the door behind them, even though they were the only ones here in this massive building and she turned her attention back to him- his shirtless, muscular frame. 

“Need someone to blame it on, when you wake up tomorrow morning?” He asked, stepping in front of her, needing to explain away her silence. “That’s okay. It can be my fault,” he said, raising her chin to face him, his hand sliding along her jaw. 

She kissed him back eagerly when he kissed her, slid her hands through his hair again, sighed softly into his mouth when he got his arms around her. 

He backed up, taking her with him, still kissing her as he sat on the bed and she sat with him, close enough that she could tell he was getting really into the feel of them making out and both their breathing got heavier. 

She kept her hands on his face, stroking his goatee as they kissed. His hands got friskier, slipping beneath her blouse, fingers caressing bare skin. 

“Can I take this off?” he murmured against her mouth, pulling up her shirt. 

She nodded. “You can take it all off,” she whispered huskily, her mouth still pressed against his. 

He grinned, his pupils dilating as he tugged it off over her head, his hands going to her waist to gently lift her up as he undid the button on her pants, yanking them down and putting her in her underwear. 

“Slow, Tony, please,” she whispered against his lips, her hand on his chest. 

He nodded, eyes wide on hers as cupped her face in both hands. “Anything you want, my dear,” he said softly, his voice catching. “Anything.” 

She kissed him again, just as hard as when she’d pushed him against the wall in the training room and he gasped into her mouth, his hands lowering to her waist to catch her as she spread her legs to straddle him. 

“Here, come here, sweetheart,” he said, adjusting her position on top of him and watching her face as her eyes widened as she pressed her hips into his. 

“Lay down,” she murmured, gently pressing against him and he obliged, leaning back into the pillows, stretching out across the mattress. 

She leaned over him as she kissed him and he eagerly kissed her back, hands steady at her sides. She lowered her mouth down his jaw, sucked on his neck, nipped at his collar bone, lowered her mouth down his chest, tongue slipping out to taste his skin. 

“Oh, yes, please,” he moaned as she started to undo his belt buckle. 

She kissed his stomach, her knees on either side of his hips and she felt him shiver as she kissed the soft skin of his belly while she unzipped him, tugging his pants down his legs. 

He was fully erect by the time she was dipping her tongue into his navel, the soft curls of her hair falling over onto his stomach as she teased his belly button. 

“Fuck, you’re going to destroy me,” he murmured. 

She grinned as she pulled on his boxer briefs, pushing them out of the way before she descended on him. 

She was extremely well-versed in the skill of pleasuring a man’s penis and she knew even before she’d slid her tongue along his length what his reaction would be, but the way his breath hitched in his throat, eyes rolling back into his head, knuckles whitening as he clutched at the sheets while her hands squeezed, massaged and caressed his balls as she swirled her tongue around him was even better than she’d thought. 

“Shit, baby, that’s good,” he moaned, eyes closing as she took him between her lips. 

She was obviously highly skilled in the art of observation too, picking up on certain tells and it didn’t take her long to figure out what he really liked as she went down on him. Not too fast though, for once she just wanted to enjoy sucking his cock for no reason other than that she just wanted to make him feel good. 

She kept an even pace, wanting to draw out his pleasure, keep him making those wild sounds a little bit longer. 

He was groaning deeply, obviously trying very hard not to lose track of himself too much and even though a part of her thought it was sweet, there was a bigger part that just wanted to drive him crazy. 

She wiggled her tongue, her lips tightening around him as she used everything she’d learned about his body in the last seven minutes, sucking him harder and faster and then he was losing control, moving his hips along to her pace and then he erupted into her mouth with a groan so loud, it was lucky the place was shatter proof and that there was no one else around for miles and miles. 

“Oh, fuck,” he kept repeating as he was catching his breath. “Come here,” he murmured, groping for her and pulling her against him as he kissed her, hard. 

“That was insane,” he told her, his fingers tangling up in her hair. He rolled them over so that he was on top, and any other time she would have resisted, but the weight of him on top of her, the press of his lips against her neck was not unwelcome. 

He unhooked her bra as they kissed, his hands moved over her breasts groping and squeezing, thumbs rubbing hardened nipples. “You’re never going to stop coming for that one,” he whispered, his breath tickling her ear. 

She shivered as he kissed a path down her neck to her breasts, repeating the journey a couple of times, his hands lowering down her body until he was pushing his way into her panties, his hips thrusting against hers and she wondered for a moment how on earth he was so hard again after the orgasm he’d just had, but then he pushed a couple of fingers inside her and she almost forgot how to breathe. 

“Hell yeah,” he whispered as she cried out when he started to finger her. “That’s my girl,” he said. “Fuck, you’re so wet.” 

“Tony,” she breathed, spreading her legs a little wider. 

He kissed her neck, sucked on her earlobe as his hand pleasured her sex and she closed her eyes as her body reacted to him. “Like, that, baby?” he said, whispering sexy things into her ear. 

“Mmmmmm, yeah….” She moaned, moving her hips. 

“That’s it, baby girl. Show me what you want,” he murmured, pushing deeper, his thumb finding her pleasure spot. 

“Tony, that feels good,” she breathed, her eyelashes fluttering. He kept his hand moving at a steady pace, each stroke feeling better than the last until she exploded around his fingers, moaning loudly. 

He kissed her deeply, his hand still moving in her underwear. “Oh yeah. Gonna make you go again,” he whispered, his other hand tracing her face and smoothing her hair back.  
She shook her head. “I’ve never done that before,” she insisted. 

“That’s because you never fooled around with me before,” he said, his mouth covering hers. 

She doubted his cockiness, but his hand still felt good so she let him keep fingering her. To her surprise, she came a second time and then she felt her muscles start to flutter again even before she was finished with her last orgasm. She lost count after the fourth time he’d made her come, her breath coming out in short, desperate pants. 

“Hmmmm.. I guess that felt good,” he murmured with a self-satisfied smirk, kissing her forehead.

“Shut up and fuck me,” she replied. 

“Yes, m’am,” he said, sliding her underwear off her legs and positioning himself over her. 

He kissed her as he pushed his sex into hers, she cried out when she felt him inside, he gasped against her mouth as he felt her tight around him. 

“You have no idea…” he started to say, his voice catching on a low groan as he started to thrust. 

She moaned deeply, her hips bucking up against his, matching him thrust for thrust. 

“No idea how badly I’ve wanted to have you like this,” he told her while he fucked her. 

“Oh, God, Tony,” she cried. 

His breath was shaky, his groans deep as he pushed into her. 

“Faster,” she demanded, digging her heels into his ass to urge him on, her nails scraping along his back. 

He kissed her, hard, over and over as they moved into each other, his hands all over her body, his arms strong around her.

Her moans were gaining a pitch on their own before becoming short, fast gasps as he pushed harder, faster, deeper inside her and she clutched him tightly, screaming into his shoulder as she came uncontrollably, crying out at his erratic thrusts and then he was cursing as he came. 

“Damn,” he gasped once he had mostly caught his breath, his hand running through his sweaty hair. “That was definitely the best sex I’ve ever had in my life,” he said, sighing dramatically. 

She thought it was the best sex she’d ever had too, but she’d never say it out loud.

“Can I hold you?” He asked, a little timidly for a cocky, self- assured billionaire who’d just given her everything he’d got, and with the energy of someone fifteen years younger. 

She nodded, breathing him in as his arms enveloped her, the weight of the day crashing over her as she clung to him, closing her eyes, burying her face in his chest, feeling his real, recently uninhibited heart beat against her temple. 

They laid there in silence for a while, all tangled up in the sheets as they clutched each other close. Then she leaned her head up and kissed his throat and he stroked her arm with his fingers and she kissed his chin, he kissed the top of her head, she kissed his cheek, he nuzzled her shoulder and then their lips met again, he lay back against the mattress, she stretched out over him, he cupped her breasts, she slid her knee up over his hip and then they were having sex again. 

She lost track of everything else but the feel of him before she was closing her eyes, losing herself to sleep while she was still in his bed and he was still naked beside her.


	8. Chapter 8

Things were tense among the Avengers these days. They’d lost people; nameless faces of people they’d tried desperately to protect. Faces that kept popping up on the news.

Steve had tried to talk to them about sacrifices of war, about making hard decisions and how it was never easy, but that didn’t make it any less necessary. 

They'd lost a couple of their own, too. Thor. The general consensus among the team was that he’d likely gone back to his home realm, although who could be sure when there was no form of contact for the better part of two years? Bruce. Hell if she knew where he was these days. It’s not like he’d given her an explanation for breaking his promise or anything. The young girl’s twin brother, weighing heavy on Clint’s mind. Event Clint himself, though at least she knew he was safe and that was enough to provide some comfort, even thought it had taken awhile to get used to not being able to see him every day. 

Things were tense for the ones that were left, only after awhile they’d all stopped talking about it. Just went on with their lives. For Natasha, that meant upholding the legacy she’d chosen. Wanda, Vision, Sam. They needed guidance if they were ever going to find their way on this broken team and she would guide them, with or without Steve. Whether she agreed with the path he was pursuing or not. 

She idly watched the heated discussion between Rhodey and Sam. Listened to Vision’s spewing of statistics. Heard Steve’s logic and reasoning and Tony’s emotional stance hidden behind his ever-present biting sarcasm. “Maybe Tony’s right,” she heard herself say. 

She tried to ignore the flicker of pain in his eyes, told herself his harsh retort was nothing personal. Tried not the think about the last time she’d seen him, the look on his face as she’d left his newly rebuilt home in Malibu… 

XXXXX

“I can’t say I’m not surprised that you decided to agree with me on this,” he admitted, holding his head between his hands during a rare moment when it was just the two of them in the conference room, without the Secretary or Rhodey or anyone else who had been coming and going for the last twelve hours. He looked up to where she was standing. “But I am glad that you’re here.” 

He said that last part really low, but she knew he’d meant for her to hear it anyway. She walked around the table to where he was sitting, placing her hand over his where it was still resting against his head. “Where else would I be?” she wondered out loud, her mind swimming and her heart pounding too swiftly to allow her to articulate anything else. 

“I don’t know,” he said, a hint of that sarcasm coming back to his voice. “It was you that broke up with me without a real reason, wasn’t it?” 

“Where are you going?” He’d asked, with the knowledge that she would’ve slipped out without saying anything to him had he not caught her as she headed past the stairs to his workshop and through the decadent living area to the foyer clear in his voice. “Sweetheart. What’s wrong?” 

“I don’t belong here,” she’d whispered with tears in her eyes as she left. To his credit, he’d kept persistent with his calling despite the thousands of voice messages that had gone unanswered and she was under no misimpression that he didn’t know that she was still living at the compound. He was nothing if not a fighter, and somehow even with everything she’d done to him, she was still counted among the people that he’d keep fighting for. 

“Yeah,” she whispered shakily, her hand still on top of his. “My fault.” 

An hour later and she was standing with him in a maintenance closet while the Secretary was out to lunch, confident in the fact that he’d scrambled the signals on the security cameras and locked the doors so they would remain undetected, if only for a few minutes. 

Her hands were pressed against the wall, pants around her ankles as she spread her legs wide, letting him hold her against his chest, his hands cupping her breasts possessively and his mouth against the back of her neck, panting heavily as he thrust into her over and over until he released so hard that it was enough to send her shuddering over the edge. 

“Next time, I’m going to undress you properly,” he murmured, gathering up all of her hair in his hands and combing it over one shoulder while he tenderly kissed the side of her neck he’d bared for that purpose. 

It was over almost as fast as it had begun, but God, she missed this. Missed him.

“Next time,” she breathlessly agreed.

XXXXX

She saw it in his eyes a day and a half later while they looked out over the green grounds of the compound. He listed everything that was wrong with Rhodey, outlined the tough road he had ahead of himself, the relief evident in his voice that at least his oldest friend and confidant had survived a conflicting mixture with the obvious grief over everything else they’d all lost. And then there was that flicker of something else settled in his deep brown eyes as he gazed at her accusingly. 

He was wondering how many fucking times she was going to betray him, she knew. Only her own emotions had gotten the best of her and she’d spat back at him just as venomously before walking away from him again.

XXXXX

“I’m sorry, I don’t know who else to call.” 

His voice was broken and detached on the other end of the phone, and the panic spread throughout her entire body, almost enough to cripple her if not for the realization that the most stubborn, cocky and resilient person she’d ever met was in real trouble. He had to be. This was a man who was able to create a ground-breaking device with limited technology and no access to the outside world as he was trapped in a cave far away from anything he’d ever known to keep his heart pumping against impossible odds. 

And now he was struggling to use his breath to go back on his stubbornness and call the one person who he’d deemed as his last resort. 

Her hand shook as she held onto the phone for dear life, trying with everything she had left in her and failing to keep her voice calm and steady while the blood rushed in her ears as she told him to hang on. That she’d be right there, as soon as she could. 

XXXXX

If there was anything she knew in this life, it was what it was like to be made broken and have to glue the jagged shards of your tainted soul back together again, even if the mended pieces resembled something different than before. 

He knew it too, she could see it in his eyes. The fear. The pain. The guilt. 

“So much for legacies, huh?” He muttered as she tried to help him stand. She’d felt herself shatter again when she found him shivering and alone, an inch away from his life and his resolve. 

He spit on the floor. “This is what our legacy has become. Are you happy now?” 

“No,” she cried. Tried to apologize. Tried to make him see. 

He placed a hand at the small of her back, half metal, half flesh, all him as he forcefully pushed her in front of a small monitor. 

At first she didn’t understand, but then she covered her mouth with both hands as the video played on a loop. Stark’s parents, she realized. A lifetime of studying the family made her sure she’d recognize anyone of them in any context and now here they were. Howard and Maria, murdered on camera. 

She gasped out loud, fell to her knees before him in tears when the killer’s face came into plain sight on the screen, cried with him over the fresh loss of the parents who had been dead for nearly a quarter of a century. 

They rode back to a hospital near the compound in silence, the same one Rhodey had been airlifted to. 

She texted Pepper and Happy on the way. 

They sat alone in a tiny room for awhile, and the whole time she tried to explain herself. Confess her sins, make him see that she was only trying to do what she could to keep everyone that was important to her safe, hoped it was clear that he was included in that statement. 

“He knew,” Tony told her quietly. “Did you?” 

“Tony-“ she said breathlessly, her eyes red-rimmed and her breath shaky. 

“Just tell me the truth for once,” he said, his voice even, his eyes finally looking at her. “It’s just you and me now, darling. We’re the only ones left. Just tell me the goddamn truth. Did you know?” 

“Steve and I found out on that mission in Washington,” she said slowly, swallowing hard. “Everything was falling apart, and the secret that HYDRA had orchestrated your parents’ deaths came out. We talked about it after. He decided he should be the one to tell you, that it was his duty, or something. I don’t know. At the time I guess it made sense.” 

She looked up at him, her eyes pleading. “I didn’t want to hurt you. I never really had reason to believe that he hadn’t disclosed it to you, I- I’m so sorry, Tony. I never meant to betray you. Please believe me.” She wiped at her eyes, tried to keep her voice steady. “This clearly isn’t what I wanted my legacy to be.”

He closed his eyes for a few seconds, took a deep breath. “Yeah, well. They’re still coming for you, so….” 

She nodded, stood up from her perch in the chair. “Pepper and Happy should be here soon,” she told him quietly as she made her way to the door. 

“Hey, Nat?” He called. 

She turned back, her eyes wide. 

By now the color had started to come back to his face and he’d stopped shivering, at least from the cold. She could see the gears turning in his head behind his eyes and for a moment he was starting to look like himself again. His voice had softened considerably when he called her name, and there it was. The last reluctant scrap he’d throw her as an unwitting and unwilling participant in this unspoken battle. 

She raised her eyebrows expectantly when he hesitated, saw him shake the vulnerability from his expression.

"Before I can make an informed decision, I need to know all the facts. What other secrets are out there?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tony learns all of Natasha's secrets and comes to realize just how long she's known all of his in my next story, The Iron Thread.


End file.
